


in the heat of the moment

by Deisderium



Series: would smell as sweet [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Bucky Barnes, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Rogers, Or Is he?, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Really Just Inordinate Amounts of Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23476600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deisderium/pseuds/Deisderium
Summary: "His time is upon him," Mrs. Rogers said solemnly. Bucky stared at her, taken aback and not altogether certain what she meant. It kind of sounded like she thought Steve was on the edge of death, but if that had been the case—again—she probably wouldn't have had a smile curving up the corners of her lips."His heat," Mrs. Rogers said more bluntly. She was a nurse, after all. "Steve has presented as an omega."*In which Steve presents very late as an omega. Bucky isn't supposed to go see him, but when has he ever done what he was supposed to do where Steve is concerned?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: would smell as sweet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600642
Comments: 85
Kudos: 712
Collections: Sweet and Gentle Steve/Bucky





	in the heat of the moment

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO, I hope you all are staying safe! Please have some PWP straight from the smutforge, from my house to yours. <3 It turned out extremely fluffy but so it goes.
> 
> Also, this is a prequel to on the nose and knot without you, but you certainly don't need to have read those to read this. :D
> 
> FURTHER, the underage tag is because Steve is 16 and Bucky is 17.

"What do you mean he can't see me?" Bucky felt off-kilter, the world knocked just a bit sideways. He and Steve had been planning to get together to write their history paper all week, having had the good fortune of talking Mrs. Malley into letting them work together on the paper, since they lived in the same building. Steve's ma was working a late shift at the hospital, so they'd be able to study (and horse around, to be honest) as late as they needed to. 

"His time is upon him," Mrs. Rogers said solemnly. Bucky stared at her, taken aback and not altogether certain what she meant. It kind of sounded like she thought Steve was on the edge of death, but if that had been the case—again—she probably wouldn't have had a smile curving up the corners of her lips.

"His  _ heat,"  _ Mrs. Rogers said more bluntly. She was a nurse, after all. "Steve has presented as an omega." Bucky actually took a step back in shock. Most alphas and omegas presented between the ages of twelve and fourteen. He had long since assumed that, at seventeen and sixteen respectively, he and Steve were betas. Betas didn't present—you knew you were a beta by the absence of presenting. But omegas—omegas usually found out they were omegas by going into heat. Which meant that Steve—

"Congratulations," he managed to say through numb lips. "Tell Steve I'm real happy for him." That might be what was expected to be said, but from his mouth it was a lie, and he was pretty sure Sarah Rogers knew it. Two young, unmarried beta men might live together as confirmed bachelors and no one would care, but if Steve was an omega that changed things.

"I'll tell him you stopped by," Mrs. Rogers said, not without sympathy. "He left you a note." She extended her hand, fingers folded around a small piece of paper. It was all Bucky could do not to snatch it from her fingers.

"Thanks, Mrs. R," he said, and was favored with her wan smile as she shut the door on him, already pulling her coat off the hall tree to get ready to go.

He turned the corner into the staircase, then fumbed open the sheet of paper. It was only about the size of an index card, and there wasn't much there to any eyes other than his own.

> Hey Buck,
> 
> Sorry to miss you tonight. Guess Ma told you my news. Don't worry about the history paper—I know we only have a limited window for the assignment, but I promise I'll make the work up later.
> 
> —Steve 

Bucky looked at the scrap of paper, bit his lip, and then walked down the steps to the floor below, down the hallway, then back into his family's apartment. His dad was still at work, and his Ma baking in the kitchen, and for a moment, he thought he could slip inside unnoticed, but then Becca spotted him. 

Her eyebrows shot up. "You're back already?"

Bucky blew out a breath. "C'mere." He dragged her into his room, which was his alone because he was the oldest and a beta, and Becca was thirteen and an alpha and could be counted on to take care of their younger sisters. "Steve presented as an omega," he said bluntly. "His ma told me."

"Oh, Bucky," Becca said. The pity in her voice nearly broke him.

"Don't," he said. "Just...don't tell anyone else tonight, all right?"

"You're going up?" she said softly.

"He asked me to," he said, fingers clenching around the folded paper in his palm.

She shook her head, and he caught a waft of her smell, sad and protective, and he wrinkled his nose. "Don't be—c'mon, it's  _ Steve." _

"Just be careful." She shook her head. "Look, I know you feel—"

"Becca," Bucky said, and she stopped. "It's Steve. If he needs me, I've gotta go. Don't tell anyone, all right? If anybody asks, I’m spending the night out."

"I won't," she said. "I'd tell you not to do anything stupid, but it's too late for that, huh?"

He gave her a middle finger salute, then slipped into his room and shut the door firmly behind him. He had no idea what Steve might need from him, but unless he was completely wrong, Steve wanted him at his window, so he was going to be there.

He left all the books he'd been going to bring to Steve's apartment on his desk and slipped onto the fire escape with just himself—he hoped that would be enough.

He crawled through the window onto the fire escape and went up two floors to Steve's window. The curtains were drawn, and he hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure that there really had been a message for him in the note, but otherwise why would Steve phrase it that way? But maybe he was only reading it that way because he wanted to, because he'd see signs and runes in Steve's everyday utterances. Steve might be already in the throes of his heat—Bucky swallowed hard—and not want Bucky to see him that way. Still—

He tapped on the window three times, exactly the way he always did.

"Window's open," Steve said from somewhere behind the curtain, voice hoarse.

Bucky dug his fingers under the frame and lifted. The window squeaked a little, but Mrs. Rogers had probably already left for work, and it wasn't that loud, anyway. The curtains were a thick black fabric with activated charcoal panels to filter out scent, and Bucky knew they were working, because as soon as he pushed them aside, he could smell Steve. He clambered in quickly, shutting the window behind him and drawing the curtains closed, making sure they overlapped.

When he turned around, Steve was sitting against the wall, hunched over miserably, staring at his feet—no, at a paper bag by his feet. He was wearing only his shorts and an undershirt that was far too big for him—an undershirt that Bucky recognized with a sudden hard thump of his heart as his own, left over one time to be laundered when he'd spilled paint on it.

"Steve?" Bucky said softly. "Are you all right?"

"You're not supposed to be here," Steve muttered, not looking up.

Bucky's heart sank a little. "Do you want me to go? I thought your note—"

Now Steve looked up. His cheeks were flushed, even in the dim light of the room, and his eyes looked a little dazed to Bucky. "No, you were right. I wanted you to come." He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Bucky watched the movement of his throat, transfixed. "I just thought I should say it, that you aren't supposed to be here, so you can go if you want."

"Now, why'd you think I'd want to do that?" Bucky stepped closer, away from the window, further into Steve's familiar room. The walls were still covered with Steve's drawings, the narrow bed was still pushed nearly to one wall and the drawing table on the wall opposite. Different was the towel shoved under the door, the scent-neutralizing candles burning all over the room. The only other light was the lamp on the bedside table. Steve's face was mostly cast in shadows, golden in the soft light. 

The shadow between his eyebrows deepened to a line as he frowned. "Well, Buck, I don't know if you're aware, but at some point it's gonna get real personal in here." His gaze dropped to the brown paper bag next to him, and Bucky felt his own cheeks heat as he realized what must be in there. There were toys for unpartnered omegas' heats as well alphas' ruts, and they'd been alluded to in health class when they discussed designations. He tried not to picture Steve using them, but it was difficult. 

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Steve's eyes fixed on him. But fuck, if there was ever a time to be honest, it was now, when all the half-formed dreams he'd had about Steve had just shattered into pieces.

Well, he'd never actually spoken those dreams aloud, so maybe it was time for new ones.

"If you want me here, I'm here." Bucky sank to the floor next to Steve, his heart pounding. "There's nothing I wouldn't do if you want me to."

Steve let out a laugh that was nearly a sob into his knees, and turned his head just enough so Bucky could see that his eyes were red-rimmed. Bucky's chest ached, a hollow where his heart ought to be. He wanted to touch Steve, to pull him into his arms, but he wasn't sure if it would be welcome, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make Steve any more uncomfortable than he already was.

"Steve," Bucky said helplessly, "please, I just want to help you. Anything you need, I'm here."

"That's the trouble," Steve said bitterly. "I do need you and—" His breath caught in a sob.

Bucky's mind raced. He wondered—they'd never talked about it—but maybe he and Steve had been more on the same page than he'd thought. He hadn't wanted to presume, but he'd always thought that there was no one who could possibly be more suited to him than to Steve. He'd hoped that they could spend their lives together; maybe get an apartment, live as betas, as bachelors who needed no one besides each other.

Obviously, that was different if Steve was an omega—but maybe it didn't need to be that different.

But the problem was that there were things that he couldn't do for Steve, things that Steve needed; things that Steve needed right now, more than ever.

"I know I can't be everything you need," Bucky said slowly. "But I'd like to try. I'm not an alpha—I can't be your alpha—but there's nothing else I don't want to do for you. You don't have to be alone. I can stay here and help."

Steve slowly looked up. His eyes were so blue, and his pupils were so wide. "You mean it?" He took in a breath. "You'd do that for me? It's gonna be—" he grimaced. "It's going to be a lot.  _ I  _ am going to be a lot."

Bucky reached out and took his hand. He pulled it close to his chest and pressed it over his heart, just for a second. Then he lifted Steve's hand to his mouth, and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "I don't know how you got the impression you're not always a lot." He dodged Steve's halfhearted punch. Steve's eyes were wide, his expression soft and open, and Bucky couldn't keep joking when it seemed like Steve needed reassurance. "You're never too much, not for me."

Steve's face convulsed, and then he turned and pulled Bucky into what seemed at first to be a hug, but then—

Bucky took in a shocked breath and wrapped his arms hesitantly around Steve. Steve burrowed further into him, burying his nose in Bucky's neck. As a beta, Bucky wasn't supposed to have particularly strong pheromones, but maybe he and Steve were just an exception to everything, because Steve seemed to draw as much comfort from smelling Bucky as Bucky had breathing in Steve's scent when he first came in the room. 

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, stroking his back, murmuring as soothingly as he could about how much he wanted to be here, how much he wanted to be with Steve. He ached with the thought that he couldn't be what Steve really needed, but if Steve got any solace at all from his presence, he wasn't leaving. He just wanted to take care of him—it was all he'd ever wanted, really.

"You mean it?" Steve asked quietly.

All Bucky had been saying was whatever came into his head, but he'd meant every word of it. "Yeah," he said. "I want to do whatever you want me to. If you want me to, uh, help you out, I want to do that. If you just want me to be here, keep you company, then I want to do that."

Steve was silent for a long moment. "If you stay," he said slowly. "I'm not going to want to go back to how it was. If you stay, you have to mean it."

"I mean it," Bucky said. "I've never meant anything more. I thought—I hoped, maybe—that both of us could stay together. Always." It was surprisingly hard to get the half-formed dream into words. "You know, we could be confirmed bachelors and no one would care. I'm happy for you now, Steve," and as he said it, the words became true, because he  _ was  _ happy for him. "I just wanted to be whatever you needed, and now it seems like maybe that's not in the cards for us. But if I can be what you want, then I'll do it, and be happy about it." He stroked his hand down Steve's back, tracing the crooked curvature of his spine.

"Bullshit," Steve said, and pulled Bucky closer, until they were practically sitting on top of each other on the floor. "You've always been what I need. What we are to each other—it's more than biology." Bucky's throat tightened. "Besides," Steve said. He bit his lip suddenly, as though he were nervous. It was an endearing look, but then again, Bucky thought, all of Steve's looks were endearing. "You keep talking about what I want, but there's two of us in this room. What do you want?"

"I want to be with you," Bucky said around the lump in his throat. "I want to stay with you right now and help you through this. I want to stay with you forever. Get married, have kids." Steve's eyes were wide, taking Bucky in, taking the sincerity with which he was speaking. And Bucky knew that it was too much, too fast, too soon, but he couldn't help himself. Steve had asked what he wanted, and this was what it was. "But mostly, right this second, I really want to kiss you."

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob stuck in Steve's throat. "Everything you said," he said breathlessly. "Everything you said, I want that too."

Bucky turned, angling his body so that their faces lined up, leaning in to kiss Steve. It was a little uncomfortable, but he wouldn't have changed a thing about it for the world. He tried to kiss Steve sweetly, he really did; tried to put all that he felt into the soft touch of lips against lips, but it turned hot almost immediately, scorching him. The taste of Steve's mouth against his was so good, something he could never get enough of, and the feel of Steve's tongue against his had him gasping out a moan, glad that Steve's ma was at work.

He's been turned on since he came in the window, but he was rock hard now, and he couldn't imagine how Steve must feel. "Come on, let's get you somewhere more comfortable," Bucky murmured. "Didn't you want to make a nest?"

"By the bed," Steve replied. His eyes looked a little dazed, and his lips were red and shining.

Bucky softly traced the swell of Steve's cupid's bow. "Why were you over here against the wall then?"

"I was waiting for you," Steve said simply, and that caught at Bucky, that Steve had known he'd come, even when he wasn't supposed to, that he'd been waiting for him.

Bucky stood up and held his hand out, and Steve let himself be pulled to his feet. Now that Bucky looked, he could see the blankets and pillows pulled into a nest over the mattress Steve had tugged off the bed, in the space between the bed and the wall; ample space for one, but still plenty of room for two if they were willing to get cozy, and Bucky was more than willing to get cozy.

He waited for Steve to get ahead of him so that he could follow him into the nest—he might be a beta, but it still didn't seem polite to go ahead into Steve's nest, even if Steve had said that he wanted him there. Steve grabbed his hand and pulled him after him, tugging him down to the ground on the mattress. It was soft and it smelled of Steve. Bucky wanted to smell like Steve, too.

"Take your shirt off?" Bucky suggested softly.

Steve shivered. "You too. It'll feel weird if it's only me."

"Of course," Bucky said, already tugging at the buttons of his shirt. Steve had pulled Bucky's undershirt off by the time Bucky got his buttons undone.

Bucky's hands stilled on the buttons, because Steve was goddamn beautiful. He'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but this was different because he was going to get to touch him; he was allowed to look his fill instead of stealing fleeting glimpses.

Steve was lean—had always been lean—and Bucky knew that he thought he was too skinny, but to Bucky, he looked perfect. The narrow curve of his ribcage was elegant, and his collarbones winged away to shoulders dense with wiry muscles. Bucky had seen his back before, the line of his spine, the knob of bone where his neck met his back, the twin points of his shoulder blades. It had been safer, always, to look at his back and indulge the thought of putting his mouth right on the nape of his neck and kissing his way downwards; but now he could look at Steve's front and think of it too, of pressing his mouth against Steve's sternum, against his pink nipples—so he did. He thought about it and hoped that Steve could see it in his eyes. 

"Fuck, Steve," he managed to say when Steve's gaze went a little uncertain. "I've never seen anything as good as you." 

That was all he had to say before Steve was in his space, his hands on the buttons where Bucky had left off. His hands were usually cold, but right now his fingers were hot on Bucky's skin. He had Bucky's shirt off in an instant, tossed off somewhere into their nest. 

Much as Bucky had never had the chance to really look at Steve like he wanted to, apparently Steve had never let himself take in Bucky; he took the opportunity now. His gaze darkened, his pupils expanding as he looked; his eyes were hot with want, and Bucky felt his gaze like a brand on his skin. Steve looked at him hungrily, and Bucky knew that he looked all right, but this made him feel like Steve wanted to devour him, and he loved it. 

He leaned forward, pulling Steve into another kiss, and was rewarded by hands on his chest, pushing him down into the blankets.

They lay side by side, kissing, and Bucky knew they didn't have too long before taking care of what Steve needed was going to be imperative, but for the moment, it was nice to just kiss, happiness bubbling up in him that Steve wanted this too, that Steve wanted him the way he wanted Steve: all-encompassing, forever. 

Steve broke away and buried his head in Bucky's chest with a groan. "Sorry, Buck. I want to keep kissing you, but—"

"Don't apologize," Bucky said. "Tell me what you want."

"Want you to touch me," Steve said against his chest, then kissed the thin skin over Bucky's breastbone. The touch went through him like lightning.

He pressed Steve back against the blankets and propped himself up so that he could look down his torso, running a hand over Steve's side. That this motion also dragged the scent glands at his wrists over Steve's skin was a pleasant bonus. As a beta, Bucky didn't have the kind of scent that an alpha would, but much in the way he loved the way Steve smelled, he had to believe that Steve would want to smell like him. Steve pressed up into his touch, head lolling back. His nipples were always pink, but Bucky thought they were darker now, maybe a little swollen; certainly, they were pulled into hard little points. He kept his hand on the soft thin of Steve's side, but he brought his mouth to Steve's nipple. 

At the first tentative lick, Steve shuddered and made a noise that made Bucky's dick feel impossibly harder. He licked and sucked, brought his hand to the other nipple to gently pinch, then roll his thumb over it. Steve arched his back, and Bucky looked down the length of his torso to see Steve's shorts tenting up and had to take a breath to steady himself.

He kissed along Steve's neck until he found his scent glands, swollen and hot beneath the skin, and licked over the sensitive skin. Steve gasped and turned a little so he could cling to him, pulling Bucky tight against his body.

"Jesus, Bucky—" Steve rolled his hips against Bucky's body, and he could feel his erection pressing into his hip, and he bit his lip at how good it felt. "Get your pants off," Steve gasped. 

Bucky scrambled to obey, even though it meant having to stop touching Steve. He unbuckled his belt, undid his fly with shaking fingers, and stepped out of his pants. He left on his shorts for now, because Steve still had his on, and because this wasn't about him. 

Steve sat up only to pull him back down immediately, pulling Bucky on top of him. Bucky ran his fingers through Steve's hair and kissed his neck over his scent glands again, pressing them together. Steve seemed to like the weight of him, the way he was caged in by Bucky's body, judging by the way he arched up into Bucky. Steve's erection pressed against his side, a hot, hard line, and Bucky's own cock was trapped between their bellies, an exquisite friction.

Bucky moved his hips experimentally and groaned into Steve's neck, shocked all over again by how good it felt. They moved against each other like that for a while, rocking gently into each other, and Bucky thought that if this was all they ever did, he'd die happy.

But of course, that wasn't how a heat worked, and maybe it would have been different if their first time had been with both of them betas, like Bucky had thought, but if they'd both stayed betas, who knew how long it would have taken him to get his courage up? Bucky couldn't regret anything that ended up with them here.

"Buck," Steve said, his eyes focusing on Bucky's face, suddenly. "I need—I need—" 

"Anything," Bucky said, but he could tell from the look in Steve's eyes that he was having a hard time finding words, so he rolled off him, and slid his hand right down Steve's belly, through the sparse trail of hair to the elastic waistband of Steve's shorts. He pulled his hand back for a moment, over the fabric, letting his hand stroke over the hot ridge of Steve's cock through the thin cotton of his shorts. Steve's eyelids fluttered and his hands caught in the blankets, and Bucky worried that he wasn't doing enough, or wasn't doing what Steve wanted. 

"Steve," he got out, though his breath was short in his chest, "tell me what you want. I want to make you feel good, sweetheart, I want to make you happy—" 

Steve convulsed under his hand, then went very still, his cock pulsing beneath Bucky's touch as he came.

"Fuck," Bucky said, kind of awed at Steve's responsiveness. "Let me get your shorts off, sweetheart." He tugged at the elastic waistband, carefully pulling them down over Steve's still-hard cock.

"Yours too," Steve gasped, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. He looked wanton and debauched already, and Bucky couldn't believe how unbelievably lucky he was that he got to be here for this, for Steve. 

He got Steve's underwear off and lifted his hips to peel his own shorts off with much less care. When he looked up, Steve's eyes were open, his gaze hot and hungry on Bucky. Steve was looking at his dick like it was the cure for all that ailed him, and it hurt Bucky a little to know that it wasn't really the case, that he wasn't really all that Steve needed, biologically anyway. He was going to try to make it up to him every other possible way. 

"Need more," Steve said, his voice low. His cock hadn't gone soft at all; Bucky had kind of thought that was something that was true only in eight-pagers and whispered conversations between horny teenagers, but obviously that wasn't the case.

"Anything you need," Bucky said.

Steve's hips shifted restlessly, and his eyes fluttered shut again. "Need something inside me," he said, and flushed from his cheekbones to his chest, and God, that was a sight that Bucky would be lucky to remember for all his days. 

Bucky pressed a kiss to his navel. His pulse was pounding—he'd never done this before, and he wanted it to be good. "You got it, sweetheart."

He kissed his way down to Steve's cock, breathing in the scent of him. He only hesitated a second before licking the head of Steve's cock; he didn't really know what he was doing, but if he was gentle, it would probably be all right. He was rewarded with a groan from Steve, but that wasn't what Steve had asked for.

He let his hand rest on Steve's hipbone for just a second, rubbing his thumb over the thin skin over the bones, then trailed it down Steve's thigh. Bucky knew that Steve could be—not shy, exactly—but defensive about his body, but there was no shame or hesitance in him now. His legs fell apart invitingly as Bucky traced a path lower. The smell of his arousal intensified, and Bucky found himself taking in gulps of air, trying to draw more of the smell of him into his lungs. If he'd had a third hand, he'd have palmed his own aching dick, but since he didn't, he rocked his hips gracelessly against Steve's leg. The friction was not nearly enough, but better than nothing, and Steve didn't seem to mind, or even care all that much.

Steve's hole was wet and slippery with slick, and Bucky groaned aloud at the feel of it. "God, you feel so good," he told Steve.

Steve gasped a laugh. "You're not even in yet, and that's just your hand, not your dick."

"Shut up," Bucky said, but he was smiling, and he looked up Steve's torso to make sure he knew that. Steve was smiling too, even with his face flushed and the long muscles of his thighs shaking a bit, with tension or want, Bucky couldn't tell, and it didn't matter. He was going to give him what he needed. He stroked his finger over Steve's hole, pressing gently into the ring of muscle. He didn't know why he was surprised to find it loose and relaxed; that was the whole point of heat, really. He pressed in, tentatively, and couldn't help the moan that escaped him when Steve just...opened. Bucky's finger slid in easy as pie, and Steve shuddered beneath his touch. Steve arched his back like a cat and made a sound that ought to have been illegal. Bucky had never done this before, but he thought that he must be doing all right, or maybe it was just the heat. 

"Is this okay, sweetheart?" he breathed. "How does it feel?" Steve was so hot, so wet inside. Bucky took a breath, thinking about how easily he was sliding in. He could feel Steve's slick glands, hot and swollen against his fingers. Steve drew in a gasp, and Bucky smiled a little; he'd played around with his own, nonfunctional, slick glands and that had felt amazing—he couldn't imagine how it felt now, with Steve's system full of hormones.

Steve rocked forward experimentally, and the look on his face ought to have been reserved for religious experiences, in Bucky's opinion. "Good," he breathed. "I need more, though."

In answer, Bucky slid a second finger into Steve and had to bite his lip when it was accepted as easily as the first. Steve groaned and looked down at him. Bucky lipped at the head of his cock and said, "Tell me how you feel." 

"Like my skin is nothing but nerve endings, asshole," Steve said, laughing, and then lolled his head to the side and actually looked at Bucky. Maybe he saw that Bucky was uncertain, unsure of what he was doing; for all that Bucky had been on some dates, he'd never actually done much more than kiss anyone, and they were both thrown into the deep end since Steve was in heat. Steve's expression softened from mirth into something sweeter.

"Really good," he said, and rocked back against Bucky's fingers. Bucky could feel the clench of his muscles around his fingers and it sparked through him, the thought that he was  _ inside  _ Steve's body, in one of the most intimate ways he could possibly be.

Bucky felt stupid, whatever higher processes he normally had completely scrambled by the sight and feel of Steve.

Steve rocked his hips experimentally. "I could take another," he said.

Bucky withdrew his fingers, to the accompaniment of Steve's whine, and rubbed them through the slick. "God," Bucky breathed. "You're so wet." He pushed and with three fingers, and Steve moaned like it was everything he'd ever wanted and more.

"You don't mind," Steve gasped. He was flushed red along his cheekbones, and Bucky thought that he'd never looked more appealing, which was ridiculous, because Steve looked appealing every day of his life.

"Mind what?" Bucky said, and it was a miracle that he could form that much of a coherent thought.

"That I'm—that I'm wet." Steve bit his lip. "You don't think it's too messy?"

"Mind? It's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Yeah?" Steve tilted his hips again, and Bucky rocked his hand into him. The sight of his fingers disappearing into Steve, the smell of him, the feel of their skin pressed against skin—all of it was so perfect as to be overwhelming. 

"You're perfect," Bucky said softly. "You're amazing."

Steve rocked up to press a kiss against the top of Bucky's head, then settled back into their nest. "Buck," he said, voice deeper than usual, blue eyes steady, "I need you to fuck me."

Bucky had to suck in a deep breath. He wanted—god, he wanted. "You need a knot," he said, as steadily as he could. "Do you have a—a...?"

"A what?" Steve lifted his head to look at Bucky.

Bucky's face burned, and he was sure that he was more tomato red than Steve had ever been. "A fuckin' fake dick, Steve, with a knot."

Steve snorted a laugh and grabbed Bucky's head, pulled him up so their faces were level and kissed him deeply. Kissed him like he meant it.

"Yeah, I got a fake dick. You gonna put it in me?"

"Fuck." Bucky took a steady breath. "There's nothing I want more."

Steve's gaze flicked to the side, to the paper bag he'd been staring at when Bucky had climbed in through the window. Bucky, not being a complete idiot, went to get the bag. He peeked into the bag as he picked it up. There was a dick in there, all right; it was some kind of black rubber, and he was sort of gratified to see that it was not all that much bigger than the one jutting up hard between his legs; he'd always kind of thought that he was pretty big for a beta, and it was nice to see that at least the fake dick industry agreed. A tube spiraled out of the flared base with a pump at the other end—to inflate the knot that Steve would need. Bucky took a deep breath and pulled it out of the bag. 

It was only a few steps back to the nest that Steve had made beside the bed, but it felt like miles, the rubber dick heavy in his grip. He wasn't helped at all by the way Steve watched him, his gaze heated on Bucky coming back to him. 

Bucky sat down in the blankets next to him and ran his hand up Steve's side, marveling silently at how hot he was, at the way he arched into Bucky's touch. Steve's hair was sweat-damp and clinging to his forehead, and Bucky leaned down to push it back from his forehead, and if it was more tender than Steve probably wanted at this point, well, that wasn't Bucky's fault.

"Buck," Steve said, "please." 

Bucky wouldn't have been able to resist that plea even if he wanted to, and he very much didn't want to resist. He leaned down to kiss Steve, then bent to kiss Steve's neck, licking over his scent glands, then down his torso. Steve's hips bucked up restlessly, and Bucky moved his fingers over his hip bones soothingly. He didn't want to make Steve wait, so he dragged the fake dick up his leg.

Steve arched up, his cock already hard again, if it had ever even softened—Bucky wasn't sure. Bucky skated his fingers over Steve's cock, letting his fingers drag through the precome. Steve's hips rolled up, and his eyes found Bucky's. He looked pleading, and Bucky would never want to make him beg.

He dug his fingers into Steve's thigh, kneading the muscle. "Are you ready?"

Steve let out an unsteady laugh. "So ready. Stop asking. Please?" 

Bucky bit his lip, and took him at his word. He slid down so that he was eye level with Steve's hard cock and his wet hole. He took the rubber dick in his hand and breathed in. 

Then he rubbed it through the slick gathering around Steve's hole, getting the rubber wet and ready as best as he could, watching mesmerized at the way Steve gasped and trembled. He finally pushed against Steve's hole, and Steve moaned, closed his eyes, and threw his head back.

Bucky took that as his cue to watch the slow slide of the rubber dick into Steve's body, and he couldn't explain the way it felt for him to see it disappear deeper into Steve's body. Even more, he couldn't explain the way it felt to catalogue Steve's every reaction, but Steve seemed so desperate for it, and that made Bucky just as desperate. In his whole life, he'd never been as turned on as he was now.

Steve gasped and moaned as Bucky slid the dildo home. Steve's hips tilted up, his cock hard and flushed, shiny with come and precome. Bucky's own dick was aching to be touched, but it wasn't about him now; he just wanted to take care of Steve, more than he wanted anything else.

"Oh god, Buck, it feels good," Steve said, but there was a pin-scratch line between his eyebrows, a sign, to Bucky anyway, that something was bothering him; or maybe just him feeling something intently, Bucky didn't know. Only one way to find out, though.

"What do you need?" Bucky asked. Steve didn't answer, but the line on his forehead grooved a little deeper. 

Bucky pushed in harder with the rubber dick just to see the way Steve flushed across his whole chest. He desperately wished it was his own dick sliding in, feeling the clench of Steve's body around him, but if it couldn't be that, then he was glad it was this: his movements driving into Steve, his hands and mouth bringing him pleasure. It was everything he'd ever wanted, except in all the ways that it was completely different from what he'd imagined.

Steve's hips rocked forward. His cock was hard and red and wet. Bucky wanted to taste it again, so he did, lowering his mouth and licking a messy stripe from root to tip.

"Oh God," Steve said. His eyes were hazy, but he managed to focus on Bucky. "Now, please. Please, Bucky, the knot—I need it—"

Bucky fumbled around until he found the rubber pump, and inflated the artificial knot as quickly as he could. Steve's hips bowed up, and then he was coming— _ again, _ Bucky could barely believe it—spilling all over his own stomach. Steve panted, harsh, gasping breaths, as the muscles in his abdomen and his legs shook with the force of it. Bucky leaned over and traced Steve's rim where it was stretched wide around the rubber.

"Oh, fuck," Steve breathed. He looked up and Bucky met his gaze. Steve's eyes were so intensely blue, and he looked at Bucky like he wanted him. He looked down Bucky's naked body, and his eyes came to rest on Bucky's aching cock. Bucky was almost embarrassed; he wasn't sure why—it wasn't like anyone could possibly be unaffected by the sight of Steve coming undone. Steve licked his lips and his eyes got, if possible, even more intent.

"Come on me," he said, and Bucky felt his eyes bug out and his soul leave his body. "I want to smell like you, come on, Buck, please."

"You don't gotta ask twice," Bucky said breathlessly, hand already moving to his cock. It wasn't going to last long, he was already so worked up, but it didn't matter. He felt almost frenzied with desire and want. He wrapped his round hand around his cock and jacked it frantically, kneeling up over Steve. Steve, who was still rocking his hips, working the toy up his ass even as he watched Bucky with hot eyes.

As predicted, Bucky didn't last more than a few strokes, but when he came, it seemed endless, lasting much longer than he ever had before, striping Steve's stomach with more come than he thought it possible for his balls to hold. There was an ache at the base of his cock, and he held on, squeezing perhaps harder than he ought, but it felt like the only thing that would relieve the strange, sore feeling.

Steve dragged his hand through the mess on his belly, and Bucky realized he was rubbing it into his skin, tracing a trail up his chest to his scent glands. "Christ, Steve," Bucky said, his voice hoarse.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," Steve informed him. "You always come buckets like that?"

Impossibly, Bucky's cock gave another throb, and more come dribbled out of the tip. "No," he said. "I guess it's just something about you."

The smile Steve gave him at that was sunny and bright, and hit Bucky in his heart instead of his groin; no less strong of a feeling.

"Let me grab a towel or something," Bucky said. "We can clean up a little bit and then get something to eat and drink once you're ready to..." He shrugged a little, looking at the knot still swollen in Steve's ass.

Steve laughed, and then gasped a little as it shifted the toy inside him. "Not quite ready yet," he said. "Could do with you touching me, though."

That made more of that feeling swell in Bucky's chest; he was glad Steve wanted him physically, but he was even more glad that Steve wanted him to take care of him. It made him feel proud, like he was taller than he really was. Steve was so prickly about being taken care of most of the time, and Bucky got it, he did; but the fact that Steve was so open about what he wanted and that he wanted Bucky to be the one to give it to him gave Bucky a feeling like sneaking whiskey from his pa's medicinal bottle.

He curled himself around Steve's body and pressed kisses to his chest and neck, wiping him clean (well, cleaner; dry, at least) with a towel. Steve arched his neck so sweetly, letting Bucky mouth along his scent glands. Steve smelled so good, more like himself than he ever had, and he sniffed back at Bucky too. Bucky figured it had to be disappointing, a beta's scent instead of an alpha's, but when he asked Steve how he smelled, Steve said, "Really good," and buried his face in Bucky's neck. 

Steve licked over his glands, teasing the sensitive skin with his teeth and tongue, dragging his lips over them. It felt so good, and Bucky realized he was getting hard again.

"Steve, slow down," he managed to gasp.

"Mmmmmm," Steve said, his faint smile tipping into a grin. "I think I'm about ready to get this out of me." 

Grumbling without any actual intent behind it, Bucky deflated the knot and carefully pulled the rubber dick out of Steve's ass. Steve shivered, and Bucky set the toy aside and stroked his hand slowly over Steve's ribs. Steve burrowed into Bucky's side, and for a few languorous moments, they just lay there, holding each other, and Bucky could have stayed there forever, only his stomach growled.

Steve laughed, and if there was anything Bucky would take with him from this, it was not only how intense the want was, it was how many times they'd both laughed.

"Are you hungry?" Steve asked.

"Aren't you?" Bucky let his thumb rest on Steve's lower lip, so full and so plush. Steve chased after it, maybe instinctually, maybe because he thought Bucky would like it. (He was right.)

Steve turned his head, but then  _ his  _ stomach growled, and well, Bucky couldn't have that.

They ended up drinking water out of the same cup, passing it back and forth, Bucky pressing his lips exactly where Steve had placed his along the rim of the glass, not that he would ever admit it.

There were some provisions laid out, even if, Bucky realized, it didn't feel quite right to him because he hadn't been the one to collect them. Nonetheless, there was jerky and hard boiled eggs, and a bag of apples, and most of a loaf of bread, and butter and jam.

Bucky settled them together, him with his back to the wall and Steve between his legs, leaning against Bucky's chest—both of them still without a stitch of clothes on, but it didn't feel awkward. He put together a plate, and fed it to Steve, peeling the egg until there wasn't a sliver of shell, slicing the apple with Steve's pocket knife, and spreading butter on the bread. Ordinarily Steve would never have tolerated this level of being catered to, but he let Bucky do it now, and it made Bucky ridiculously happy, made him feel like he was meeting all of Steve's needs.

"You're purring," Steve said, a laugh in his voice. Bucky realized he was rumbling in his chest, and was torn between laughing himself and being embarrassed.

"Yeah," he mumbled into Steve's shoulder blades. "Guess I'm just happy."

Steve twisted around at that, smiling over his shoulder, his eyes soft and warm. "Me too, Buck." He leaned back against Bucky, chin tilted up so they could kiss. It was as sweet as his smile for a moment, but then Steve swiped his tongue across Bucky's lower lip and softly bit it. Bucky groaned and pulled Steve closer, and Steve impatiently turned around, straddling Bucky's lap and kissing him harder.

Bucky leaned back against the wall, groaning, their meal forgotten. He slid his hands down the smooth skin of Steve's back, over the column of his spine, right down to where his ass made a perfect handful and gripped the muscle. Steve gasped and started in on the scent glands at Bucky's neck again, and if he'd been able to think of something besides sex for a few minutes, well, that time was over. He kissed Steve hungrily, all too aware of his dick, of the sweet taste of apples on Steve's lips, of the softness of his skin. 

Between the two of them, they lurched to their feet and made it back to the nest—a handful of feet that felt like a league. Steve shoved Bucky down on the mattress and climbed on top of him, and desire rushed through Bucky in an all-consuming fire. He wanted to lay Steve down and lavish him with kisses from head to toe; but Steve seemed to have another plan in mind. Bucky ran his hands up Steve's sides, leaned up to kiss him; but Steve pushed him back down on his back and pinned his wrists together with one hand. He kissed Bucky hard, teeth and tongue. Both of them were panting, their breaths in ragged unison. Steve slid his free hand down Bucky's side, stopping to skate a thumb over his nipple; Bucky moaned out loud without meaning to, and Steve's gaze sharpened. He kept moving though, dragging his fingers along the trail of hair down Bucky's belly, through the coarse hair by his dick, which was straining up to meet Steve's hand. Steve wrapped his fingers gently around Bucky's cock, and a harsh breath punched its way out of Bucky's mouth. 

Steve smiled and straddled him. He smelled—god, he smelled good, happy and turned on. He let go of Bucky's wrists and Bucky immediately took the opportunity to get his hands on Steve's skin. He leaned up and kissed the freckle on Steve's shoulder, and as Steve slid down his body, the brush of Steve's belly against his made him shiver.

But then Steve was poised over him, his ass lined up with Bucky's dick, and Bucky made himself say, "What—what are you doing?"

"What do you think, genius?" Steve's tone of voice was fond, and the way his hand slid on Bucky's cock as he got him into position was distracting. But still, Bucky was sure this hadn't been the plan.

"What about the—don't you still need a knot?"

They both gasped as Steve sank down onto Bucky's dick, just the tip sliding into Steve. He was so hot and so wet, and so  _ tight _ , tighter than anything Bucky'd ever felt. God, it was good, so good; but as amazing as he felt, the thought of Steve not getting what he needed from Bucky was like a thorn in his side.

"Need you," Steve said. "Fuck, you feel amazing. If I _ —hnnn— _ if I need it, we can get it, all right? But this..." He trailed off and bent to kiss Bucky again, sinking slowly down Bucky's cock. When he was fully seated on Bucky, he stopped, and both of them just breathed for a moment, foreheads touching, adjusting to the electric feel of it. Bucky's fingers were digging into Steve's hips, he realized, but he couldn't seem to make himself loosen his grasp.

He rocked up experimentally, just a small motion, but it drew a moan out of Steve, and then he had to do it again. Steve's obvious enjoyment only made Bucky feel better too. He thrust up, and Steve came down to meet him. They found a rhythm between the two of them, and Bucky had never felt such white-hot pleasure as this, never felt as close to anyone in his life. But it was easy, too, like an extension of their friendship; or maybe what he felt for Steve had been love all along. All he knew was that like this, Steve tight around him, looking down at him with his face taut with ecstasy, felt like the place most right for Bucky to be in the world.

Bucky reached between them to get a hand on Steve's dick. Steve cried out, back arching, and Bucky leaned forward to get his mouth on Steve's nipple. Steve's internal muscles rippled around him, and he had a moment to be amazed all over again at being inside of Steve, so connected to him. He sucked hard, scraping his teeth lightly over Steve's nipple, his hand still moving, and Steve spilled over his fingertips. He could feel Steve's orgasm in the way his body moved around him, and that was all it took to send him chasing after Steve, tipping over the precipice of that bright, hot pleasure. He came, and he kept coming, pressure building at the root of his dick.

"Bucky, what—?" Steve said, at the same time that strange pressure at the base of his cock—broke.

"Holy shit," Bucky said, as what had to be a knot popped into existence. It was a pleasure so bright it was almost pain, but Steve's body squeezed him tight, and it morphed into bliss like he'd never known, a second orgasm chasing the first, from someplace deeper inside of him. He rocked mindlessly into Steve, and Steve groaned, head thrown back in delight. He ground his hips against Bucky's, shamelessly chasing his own satisfaction, and came again.

Then Steve slumped forward, burying his nose in Bucky's neck. He breathed deeply—taking in Bucky's scent, Bucky realized with a jolt of satisfaction. He breathed in, too, taking in the scent of satiated omega that was rising off Steve like steam off asphalt after a summer rain.

He held Steve tighter, careful not to jolt the point where there bodies were connected, by his  _ knot, _ fucking hell.

"That was—unexpected," Bucky muttered against Steve's hair, and Steve laughed. Both of them shivered as it caused him to contract around Bucky's still-hard cock.

"You could say," Steve said to his collarbone. "I thought  _ I _ presented late."

Bucky turned his head so he could gently bite Steve's shoulder, but a second later he kissed over the faint marks of his teeth. "Maybe I was waiting for you."

"That's the sappiest thing I've ever heard," Steve said, but he smelled pleased, so Bucky didn't pay his words any mind. Steve lipped over Bucky's scent glands, and it was like there was a line drawn straight from his lips to Bucky's cock. He hadn't gone soft yet, and he could hardly go again so soon on the heels of his last orgasm, but his cock twitched anyway. "How long till your knot goes down anyway?" Steve asked.

"How the hell should I know?" Bucky asked, half-hysterically, and they both laughed against each other, arms and legs twined. 

"Did you mean it?" Steve asked. "Everything you said before. It wasn't just...because of hormones or something?" 

"What does that even mean," Bucky said.

"Well...you were an alpha about to present," Steve said. "It seems like you probably have a lot of hormones in your system you don't usually." He bit his lip, and Bucky wanted to kiss it, so he did.

“I mean,” he said, "I probably do have a lot of hormones in my system or whatever. But..."

"But?" Steve said, looking at him with eyes much bigger and more worried than Bucky personally thought they ought to be.

"Steve, I've been thinking about this for years, about how we could spend our life together one way or another, however you'd like me." He ran a hand down Steve's side, pressed a kiss to his neck, right over the scent glands, right where he'd bite a mark, if Steve would let him. Steve shivered and Bucky kissed him. The two of them held each other, legs entwined, hands stroking over each other's skin, as their bodies cooled and finally, Bucky's knot shrank enough to slip free.

They both groaned at the feel of it, and Steve toppled off Bucky's lap, his chest heaving, and pulled Bucky's arms around him. Bucky rolled over and pressed into him so that they were skin-to-skin along the lengths of their sides. It felt nice, sweet and comfortable and warm.

"Yes," Steve said, apropos of nothing.

"Hmmm?" Bucky nosed at his neck.

"Yes. Everything you wanted, I want too," Steve said, and that was just what Bucky wanted to hear, the exact thing to make him light up like a switchboard.

"Yeah? You mean it?" He chased each word with a kiss to whatever part of Steve struck his fancy: his chin, the corner of his mouth, his collarbone, his nipple, which made Steve squirm.

Steve put his hand on Bucky's face and forcibly pushed it away, laughing.

"You'll let me court you, won't you?" Bucky couldn't help the way his arms tightened around Steve. "Court you proper?"

"Or you could just bite me right now," Steve said.

Bucky couldn't deny that a thrill chased up his spine at the thought of that, the thought of leaving this nest marked as belonging to each other. "I don't want to deny our mothers the pleasure," he said.

Steve's smile turned a little wistful. "It will be a pleasure, won't it? They'll be happy for us, won't they?"

"I can't speak to what Sarah might think," Bucky said uncertainty. "But as far as my family is concerned, you're part of it already anyway."

Steve sighed happily, and wriggled a little closer to Bucky. "She’ll be happy. And even if she weren’t...I’m happy." he said. "As long as we can be together."

"We will," Bucky curved his body around Steve's, a more concrete promise then any he could make with words. They had days ahead of them of fevered promises their bodies would make to each other, but Bucky knew that when it was all over, the promise he most wanted to make was with his heart: a promise of family, made of the two of them. A promise of forever.

He knew that they’d have to deal with their families' outrage at the way they'd spent Steve's heat. They would have to deal with the new knowledge of Bucky's designation, and the fact that he was already promised to an omega—to Steve. They would have to deal with the fact that Bucky had snuck into Steve's room, because he couldn't leave him now, and there was no way to hide this.

But it didn't matter; Bucky was certain that he could handle anything, if Steve was by his side. He knew it in his bones, and they would have a lifetime to prove it to each other. He curled himself around Steve, whose breathing was evening out, and let that promise of the future drag him down with him, to sleep.

Sleep, and dreams of what was to come.

  
  



End file.
